


Solitaire

by GeekGirlInTheCorner



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Leonard Snart - Freeform, Minor Rip Hunter/Sara Lance, Post Leonard Snart death, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 00:13:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13042500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeekGirlInTheCorner/pseuds/GeekGirlInTheCorner
Summary: Sara has been playing Solitaire a lot lately.





	Solitaire

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone! ColdCanary with a bit of TimeCanary. If you want to see the sort of cover, visit my Tumblr @snowbertlover. If you can't find it, message me and I'll uncover it from the depths of my Tumblr account. XD

After Leonard Snart died, Sara always woke up with unease.

She would blink open her eyes, and sit up. A deck of cards would greet her. She would smile to herself, recalling her games with Leonard, and then with a sick feeling in her stomach realize Leonard Snart was gone.

It began about twelve days after he died.

Sara sat right up, and stared at the deck of cards again. A flash of memories ran through her mind. His smirk when he won, his slightly innocent face when he cheated, the way he held up the cards, trying to hide his eagerness whenever he challenged her to a game. So many memories left behind. 

Her eyes fell to the floor, overwhelmed by loss all over again. Resisting the urge to scream, it took one swift movement with her hand to send the cards flying through the air.

Sara Lance was not one to have tantrums. Then again, she wasn't one to cry, either. So why were there tears welling up in her eyes?

Ignoring the mess, she stomped over to her closet to get dressed, then stomped equally forcefully to her custom-made training room. She swung swords, masking her screams of grief by pretending it was screams of power. Tears fell out as she continued to train, continued to push herself, farther than she ever had. 

"Sara!" A person was calling her attention. She instinctively spun around, pressing the blade of her knife to whoever had startled her. She was face-to-face with Rip. 

"Sara," he said sternly, only a bit startled, already used to Sara's habit. "Your room is outrageous!"

The blonde put her knife down and walked away. "I told you not to go in my room."

"Well, you missed breakfast, and I could hear this awful scream," explained Rip.

"And you're wondering why everyone keeps hurting themselves with my weapons," snorted Sara. "Nobody would get hurt if you just let a girl have her privacy."

"Sara, just clean up your room," sighed Rip. "It's scattered with cards. Cards! I haven't seen cards even remotely moved out of their positions since - " he stopped suddenly, realizing the situation. "Oh."

Sara continued walking to her room, pretending to not hear him, as she felt tears well up in her eyes once again. She collapsed on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She had wanted some time to relax, but she had a nagging thought: What if the team walked in? She couldn't project that image. Forcing herself to sit up, she crouched on the floor and began tidying up the cards.

Picking up the jack of diamonds, Sara smiled a bittersweet smile. That was Snart's favorite card. He didn't like playing it, but it somehow always snuck its way into the criminal's hand. She bit on her lip and forced herself not to look at the cards anymore, just clean them up. She placed it deep in her closet, where she probably wouldn't ever see it again. At least it would stop tormenting her whenever she would wake up.

The following days, she found herself wanting to see the cards more and more, until she almost craved to see them. But she didn't know why until she finally gave in. 

As she finally held the deck, memories she buried surfaced. Memories of Snart. She tried to breathe, while dropping the deck at the same time.

Finally, she regained her composure and knelt down to pick up the cards again. Unsure of what she was doing, she laid the cards out and began to play solitaire.

She was discovered by the team hours later, still on the floor, playing her twenty-seventh game of solitaire that day. 

"Sara, we've located a distortion in 1912," murmured Rip when he saw the cards laid out. His eyes softened. "Come on."

The blonde grabbed the jack of diamonds and began to suit up. She carefully placed the special card inside her dress pocket that was over her White Canary suit.

The mission was completed, and the team was inside the Waverider, listening to Gideon's confirmation that the mission was a success, when Ray piped up, "Hey, there's a card over here!"

Sara peeked over his shoulder and grabbed it. "That's mine." She pocketed it.

The next day, Sara sat at the table idly playing solitaire again as she finished her breakfast. While Jax was playing video games, she sat at the computer, pretending to watch him, while playing solitaire. Ray asked her to keep him company, which meant he would re-arrange the kitchen, and she sat at the kitchen table, doing solitaire.

Next week, Kendra asked her to train. Sara laid out the cards on a crate, and after the former attacked, the assassin swung a sword back. She blocked Kendra's next blow and flipped a card open. When their training session ended, Kendra laughed. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?" Sara asked, her attention now fully on the cards. 

"Multitask!" Kendra exclaimed. 

Months later, the team were pretty much used to cards laid out on random surfaces. Even Rip stopped - or lessened, at least - nagging her to clean it up, knowing Sara would come by soon to either play another round or get the cards. After all, she only had four decks.

When the timeline was clear of any interference, all the Legends were relaxing, doing whatever they pleased. Sara, as usual, was on her bed, playing solitaire. There was a knock on her door. The blonde let out an annoyed grunt as she yelled, "Come in!" Rip Hunter stood at her doorway.

"So, you've been playing cards quite a lot," began Rip carefully.

Sara chuckled. "You've only noticed that now?"

"Any reason for the sudden interest?"

Sara fell silent, pausing from her game. She looked up at him, eyes shimmering. After awhile, she replied softly, "They remind me of him."

Rip sat beside her, compassion and sympathy welling up inside of him. He should've known that Sara would take Snart's death the hardest (or as hard as Mr. Rory). The time they spent together, it drew them closer. He must admit, sometimes he felt a bit...jealous.

"Would you like to talk about it?" he asked.

The blonde hesitated. She didn't open up much, but Rip was here, actually offering help. She murmured, as she picked up the Jack of Diamonds, "This was his favorite card. It always ended up in his hand, no matter where it originally was." She smiled. "He said it was a bit like him. A jackass for money."

Rip chuckled. "Sounds like Mr. Snart."

"We played different games," continued Sara. "He always cheated. He won, and cheated. Well, I won once. I won when he decided to play honestly, for once. I didn't know why."

She dragged her finger lightly on some of the cards. "These cards - they're all so special to me. I'm afraid that if I let go of them; if I stop playing, I'll let go of Snart." She felt a tear drop from her cheek. "I can't play with anyone else but that crook. It's too painful. I can only play alone. If I play with someone I know, I'll imagine them as Snart, and...and..." The tears she had tried to hold back were freed.

Rip wrapped his arms around Sara as she cried. The assassin buried her face in his coat, for once, allowing herself to show weakness. The former-Time Master kissed the top of her head lightly as he rocked her back and forth comfortingly.

Sara inhaled the familiar smell of Rip Hunter as she cried. It was so painful, keeping the grief in. She had no idea how much she had needed this.

Rip whispered, "It's alright, Sara. I'm here. I'm here."

Sara lifted her tear-streaked face, still looking miserable, but worlds better. "Thank you, Rip," she croaked.

Rip allowed her to rest her head on his shoulder, as the assassin stared into space. "It's my honor, Ms. Lance."

After that, Rip watched her as she played Solitaire. When she was playing on the kitchen table, and he came for a cup of tea, he'd watch her until the game was over.

Sara had grown so comfortable with Rip being a spectator in her popular Solitaire games, that she even asked him for advice. And so it happened that one day, when Jax came into the library to read up on the Waverider, there was a yelling match involving whether or not she should move the Queen or the Jack.

"Wanna play?" Sara offered, shuffling the cards. "I'm going to train."

Rip, for some reason, blushed profusely. "No! No! Why would you think I'd want to play?"

Sara laughed. "Because you watch me like a hawk and seem to have such a strong opinion when I play."

And Rip gave it a try. It was alright, it was OK, it was fine, and it wasn't like he was blushing the whole time he played.

Two days later, Kendra strolled into the training room to find Rip and Sara sparring to see who would take control of the deck.

Sara won.

They had a comfortable system with one another, sparring over who would gain control of the cards. Long story short, Sara mostly played. Rip would pout until the blonde would laugh and hand him the deck; she had no idea before how skilled the Time Master was at pouting.

Then, after Gideon interrupted a sparring session for the cards, the Legends went on a mission; to rob the most secure bank vault in Russia. 

"You sure this is a good idea?" Jax muttered under his breath. 

"If we don't do this, the Soviets take the whole world and it all ends in nuclear war," replied Rip. "So, yes, this is a better option."

Naturally, everything went pear-shaped. As they hurried to escape, a terrible blizzard greeted them. 

"Team!" Sara called. "Let's go!"

They stumbled through the snow. The Russian police came, in thick coats and...

Parkas.

They held their guns, ready to fire. As white swirled around them, she couldn't help but see him.

"Sara!" Ray's voice interrupted her from her reverie. "A little help here?"

"Yeah." Sara snapped out of it and began fighting her way out, ignoring the sharp pain searing inside her. She couldn't get distracted. She couldn't. She had a job to do. She...

Everything else was a blur. She heard chaos; screaming. Screams of fury, screams of fear, screams of determination, screams of agony, screams of...

Love.

She could barely control herself. She could feel she was fighting. She could feel anger and adrenaline and grief course through her. And she could feel she was venting it out.

She could barely see. All she could see was swirling white from the blizzard, and a flash of silver here and there. Sometimes, her blonde hair swung in her face. She moved quickly and with great agility.

Suddenly, she felt herself being restrained, and she could hear Rip's voice. "Sara! Sara, stop! Sara!"

And all of a sudden, the world became clear. As she came back to her senses, she looked around, terrified of what she would find. Dead men were strewn all over the snow-covered ground, the snow around them tinged with red. Her teammates were looking at her with fear and pity. 

"What..." she couldn't. She couldn't do this. She knew exactly what happened.

Back in the Waverider, Sara had isolated herself in her room. Why had she lost control? Why? After this whole time, why now?

She knew the answer. The cold, the guns, the parkas...it all reminded her of him.

"Leonard Snart, why can't I get you out of my head?" Sara murmured weakly. She felt so powerless right now. 

Rip burst into her room, his face etched with anger and concern. "Sara! What happened out there?"

Sara sighed. "Rip, you know about my...condition."

The Englishman answered furiously, "But it was never this bad! Do you know how many men you killed today, Sara? How many families you caused grief?"

That hit a nerve. The former-assassin's blue eyes filled with tears. She bit her lip, and looked down, unwilling to answer. She had seen the death that followed her wake, and she didn't want the image to return to her mind. 

"I thought it was over, Sara," said Rip, although his stern exterior had gone and his tone sounded more sympathetic. "I thought you were better."

Sara stood up abruptly. "Don't you understand, Rip?" she said tearfully. "Don't you think that I feel terrible about this? Don't you think that I try to control myself? Do you think I actually like the results of my actions? It's been so hard...all this..."

She was cut off by a comforting hug. "I'm sorry," murmured a British accent. 

The blonde felt herself sink into his arms. "Rip..."

Rip hummed and kept her in the embrace. 

Later, as Sara was explaining to a concerned Kendra just what had happened, she heard a knock on the door. Rip stuck his head out. "Care for a card game?"

Sara smiled just a bit. "Maybe." To be honest, she wasn't quite sure what her response would be. She hadn't played a card game with someone other than Leonard in so long. 

Kendra gave her and Rip a knowing look, before exiting Sara's room. The captain and the assassin stood there, awkwardly. 

"I know you're still feeling...rather grim about the whole bloodlust thing," stated Rip hesitantly. "So, I thought you might feel better."

Sara smiled, a big one now. "Got some alcohol on you?"

"Always," nodded Rip, smiling as well. He held up a bottle of wine.

The blonde sat down on her bed and patted the space next to her. The former-Time Master obliged, and Sara opened the bottle. "You shuffle, I deal," she said, grabbing some glasses on her tabletop and pouring the drink.

Sara Lance didn't have to play Solitare, because though Leonard Snart was gone, she would always have a Rip Hunter.


End file.
